


Ghosts

by NorthernSerpent



Series: Falice: From A to Z [7]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Ghosts of Valentine's Past Present and Future, Inspired by A Christmas Carol, Introspection, and also Alice swears a lot, dark betty makes a cameo, like a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 15:22:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15866352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorthernSerpent/pseuds/NorthernSerpent
Summary: “I’m the Ghost of Valentine's Past. Nice to meet you, Alice.”She just blinked. It was the wine. It had to be the wine. Even though she didn’t feel woozy, her legs were firm on the ground, and her mind was as clear as ever, it had to be the wine.“I’m here to show you something,” he continued.





	Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: Set after Alice shows up at the trailer and before the musical aka before FP blows it, before Chic and Blackhood reveals.
> 
> This one is a bit of a departure for me. Please let me know what you think!
> 
> PS I don't get this show's timeline at all, so I made an executive decision and decided to pick Valentine's Day for this fic. Real Charles would have been born sometime in February, and The Trailer Scene would have happened after Christmas but before the spring? I think? Who knows?

On the eve before Valentine's Day, Alice Cooper found herself alone in her living room with a glass of wine and an open book on her lap. Her eyes glazed over the first page approximately half a dozen times, yet if anybody asked, she would not be able to tell them what it said. All she knew is that it was one of Betty's old books and the pages were yellowing and the edges curled like bunny ears.

Her record player was cranked up, Billie Holiday crooned and covered the silence of her empty home.

Everybody was gone. They had all left her.

 _No. That’s not accurate_ , reminded the little voice in her head - the same voice she was trying to drown with a bottle of merlot. _You told them to go_.

First it was Polly who she pushed towards the nuns. Then she kicked her husband out. Twice.

Even her long lost son left without a fight when she told him to.

Betty had left and then come back. But she would probably just leave soon anyway. It only made sense. Alice had pushed everyone else away.

Right now, her youngest was off with Veronica celebrating “Galentines” whatever that was. Then tomorrow Betty would be with her boyfriend doing who knows what. It was only a matter of time before she left like the others and  didn’t come back.

With a cry of frustration, Alice tossed the novel she wasn’t reading onto the coffee table. This clearly wasn’t working. The loneliness was seeping in and all she wanted was to cry and pretend that everything was okay.

Alice took a careful sip from her glass. The dark burgundy drink was filled almost to the top. She needed it after the month - year- she has had.

Then, she reached for the tv remote and browses through Netflix, cringing at all the rom-coms it was suggesting. Eventually, she settled on some kids’ show. Something nice and simple. Something that would allow her to escape.

Two bottles later, her show stopped and the screen questioned whether she was still there.

She was too busy sleeping to notice.

 

-

 

Alice’s eyes fluttered open and she was greeted with Jughead sitting across from her. Only he was not wearing his beanie, he was a decade older, his hair was a few shades lighter, and his jaw was more square.

She immediately darted towards the fireplace and grabbed the poker.

“Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my house?”  she pointed it at the intruder.

Not-Jughead put his hands up. “I come in peace.”

Alice gripped the stick harder, her knuckles turning white. “Bullshit.”

“You're not going hurt me, Alice. You can't. I'm already dead,” he snaps his fingers and suddenly a small boy with floppy hair appeared in his place.

Alice screamed. “What the fuck? Who are you? _What_ are you?”

“I love doing that. Never gets old,” the boy laughed gleefully. “I’m the Ghost of Valentine's Past. Nice to meet you, Alice.”

She just blinked. It was the wine. It had to be the wine. Even though she didn’t feel woozy, her legs were firm on the ground, and her mind was as clear as ever, it had to be the wine.

“I’m here to show you something,” he continued.

“And if I don't want to see it?”

He shrugged. “You don't really have a choice. You're stuck with me. Might as well accept it.”

The boy snapped his fingers and suddenly everything around them changed. The walls turned to stone, the furniture disappeared. A nun walked by a girl who was vigorously scrubbing dishes while wearing an apron over her gigantic belly.

Alice knew exactly where they were.

“Is… is that me?” she asked weakly, pointing to the pregnant girl. How was this even possible?

“You know the answer to that,” the spirit said with a smirk. There was something familiar about his lopsided grin that she couldn’t quite place. “I know you try to forget this, but you'll never completely succeed.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Alice cried. “What kind of Dickensian bullshit is this?”

The ghost just giggled, and Alice let out an exasperated groan.

“Please just take me home,” she sighed.

“I will,” he smiled brightly. “But first, want to see what was happening outside these walls? “

“Okay, fine. But make it quick.”

 

 _Snap_.

 

The first thing Alice noticed was the smell. The stench of teenage B.O and hormones accosted her.

“Jesus Christ,” she cursed as she covered her nose.

The ghost laughed. “Don’t worry, they can’t see or hear you insulting them.”

They were in the boys’ locker room, and judging by the frenzied activity it was just after practice. The boys were pulling off their equipment, grabbing towels and raising to the showers.

Some were more in a hurry than others.

“So whatever happened to your junkie girlfriend?” taunted a tall ginger. He leaned against the locker with his arms crossed, watching his victim rifle through his bag. There was an air of superiority around him that was just so _Blossom_. “Are you going to visit her for a Valentine’s Day conjugal? Or is that only if you’re married?”

“Alice is not in prison,” Hal stated through gritted teeth. “And she’s not a junkie.”

“Oh my bad,” said Clifford Blossom. “I just assumed given her history and all.”

“You assumed wrong,” he slammed his locker door shut.

“Then where is she?” piped up a second voice. FP stood from his seat on the bench and took a step towards the young blond. A towel was wrapped around his waist, his freshly inked tattoo on display for all to see. “Nobody but you has seen Alice in months. It’s a bit… odd.”

Clifford’s eyebrows shot up as the other teammates circled around, jeering FP on.

Hal rolled his eyes. “I don’t have to answer to your paranoid accusations.”

FP took another step so he was eye to eye with Hal. “Tell me where she is."

“I don’t have to,” Hal’s back was pressed up against the locker, but he still wouldn’t reveal his secrets. “She’s my girlfriend. Not yours.”

Something in FP snapped, and he grabbed Hal by the collar and slammed him against the locker. There was a collective gasp through the room. “If you’ve done anything to her, I’ll end you.”

It was easy to tell what was going to happen next. “We have to stop this! They’ll kill each other!”

Alice threw herself onto FP to hold him back. Instead, she immediately fell through him and onto the floor.

The spirit smirked from the bench. “You can’t stop what has already happened.”

“Then what’s the fucking point of this?” Alice snapped.

The normally annoyingly joyful spirit turned somber. “Exactly one week after this incident, FP was arrested for trespassing at the Cooper’s house-”

“He was what?” That Alice did not know. She had no idea that he had searched for her while she was away. She assumed her absence went unnoticed.

The spirit ignored her. “One week after that, you gave birth to his child.” He was only stating facts and it felt like a punch to the gut. “Alice, do you remember what happened the first time you saw FP after getting back from the Sisters?”

Alice closed her eyes, willing the tears to keep from falling.  He had raced up to her the moment he saw her trudge into school her first day back. His goofy grin was plastered on his face.

“You’re back!” he had exclaimed joyfully as he wrapped his arms around her.

Alice’s voice trembled as she struggled to relive the moment.

“I told him to let go of me and that I didn’t want to have anything to do with him. And then I told him to fuck off.”

“Did he listen?”

“Yes. He did.”

  


-

  
  


When she opened her eyes, she was back in her living room.

_Thank god._

She jumped when the clock struck midnight and a distinctly familiar voice spoke.

“Ready for Round 2?”

It came from Polly.

It couldn’t be.

She was supposed to be at The Farm, but instead, she stood by the fireplace watching it flicker in the otherwise dark room.  She wore a long white gown that billowed in the breeze coming from the open window. Her hair was longer than Alice had ever seen it, and it cascaded in soft waves over her shoulders, a white headband keeping it out of her face.

“Polly? Is that really you?” Alice’s voice wavered. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’m sorry.” Something odd flickered across the girl’s face - compassion maybe? Guilt? Alice felt her stomach twist in anticipation. “I’m just a projection.”

“What the hell does that mean?” She was tired of having to decipher vague replies.

“I’m the Ghost of Valentine’s Present,” the so-called projection stated it like it was obvious. “We don’t really have one true form.”

“So you chose my daughter?”

“Yes,” she shrugged. “Well, if you want to get technical, you did.”

Unbelievable.

Alice sighed in frustration and decided let it go because it was the best explanation she was going to get.

Two silent children peeked out from behind the spirit. The boys were young, maybe 2 or 3 years old. One held onto her skirt, while the other stood behind and sucked his thumb.

Not-Polly took a step forward, the children followed obediently. She extended her hand and offered it to Alice. “Let’s go for a ride.”

Alice studies her open palm warily.

“I promise I won’t hurt you.”

Taking a deep breath, Alice decided do the crazy thing and trust this ethereal being. “Fine.”

As soon as their fingers touched, Alice felt the ground disappear. They soared above Riverdale, the streetlights looking more like stars on the ground. Her hand clamped tightly around her guide’s fingers.

“Where are we going?”

“Thistle House.”

Alice grimaced. “I don’t need to know what goes on in that brothel.”

The ghost raised a vaguely amused eyebrow. “Not even if it involves your husband?”

“No thanks,” she suddenly felt queasy at the thought. “I don’t need to witness them fucking.”

“They’re not.”

They were quickly approaching, and Alice shut her eyes tightly as they and the two silent toddlers landed softly on the balcony. As soon as she was reassured that she wasn’t going to fall to her death, Alice immediately rushed to the window.

There, in the master bedroom, among candle light and rose petals, was Penelope Blossom with her head on Hal’s chest, her hand tangled with his on her hip. Hal smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to her hair.

“Is that real?” she barely managed to choke out the words. “Did that actually happen?”

“It is what is happening, yes. The present is my domain.” The spirit tilted her head and the two boys mimicked her.

She did everything to keep her family together, and devoted over half her life making him happy. The nights she spent awake writing and editing articles for _The Registrar_ because he asked. The flour and eggs wasted on bake sales.

She let him have his mancave.

She gave up her son.

She watched silently as he pushed Polly away.

And now, Hal looked so damn _happy_.

He could have at least given her the satisfaction of ending it herself.

“Bastard.”

“Um, Alice, he can’t hear you.”

“I know that,” Alice snapped. “Can we go somewhere else now? I’m over this.”

The Ghost smiled widely, just like Polly used to. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“Just promise me you won’t show me what my daughters are doing, or who they’re doing,” Alice said quickly. “I don’t need to see _that_.”

“I promise.” The spirit held out her hand and Alice reluctantly took it. The flew over the town and towards the tracks that divide the city behind Pop’s Chock’Lit Shoppe. The bright neon sign lit up the night.

Finally. Something she could get behind. Pop’s was always a welcome outing.

They entered into the establishment and the bell above the door remained silent. There were no customers around at this later hour. The only body was FP sitting by the counter in his work uniform scribbling something on the back of a blank receipt paper.

“What is he doing?”

The spirit and her two charges shrugged in unison. It was very unsettling.

“Go and see.”

FP scratched something out vigorously and furiously tossed the paper into the trash before starting over on another scrap of paper. Curiosity getting the best of her, Alice stood behind him. He was so close, and yet she couldn’t touch him. No matter how much she wanted to rest a reassuring hand along his shoulder.

She risked a peek over his shoulder. At the top of the small scrap of paper was her name scribbled in his distinctive chicken scrawl.

That’s when she noticed the blank card and red envelope on the countertop.

“Aww he’s writing drafts,” cooed the ghost in a way that was just _so_ Polly. “That’s so sweet.”

Alice’s eyes darted between the oblivious man in front of her, and the card.

“Why would he do that?”  Panic swelled up inside her as she tried to find the reason. “We’re not anything to each other. Haven’t been for decades! For fuck’s sake, we’re both married to other people!”

“You’re a smart woman, Alice,” the spirit rolled her eyes. “He helped you bury a body no questions asked. And then you thanked him by blowing him -”

“-Don’t be so crude, Polly-”

“-Not Polly-,” she corrected. The children giggled behind her skirt and the ghost remained stern. “Don’t tell me you don’t mean anything to each other. You and I both know that’s the greatest lie you’ve ever told.”

Alice felt a pricking sensation in her throat and the corners of her eyes blurred with unshed tears. She couldn’t do this. Not with FP. Not again.

The ghost watched her solemnly. “You’re more upset about FP than you were about seeing Hal.”

Alice laughed bitterly. Go figure.

She wiped a tear with the back of her hand.

“So, Ghost, I haven’t asked,” Alice began, desperate to change the subject. “Who are those two? Are they your children?”

“Them? No,” the ghost laughed. “They are my charges, but they belong to humanity. They are named Fear and Doubt. They may seem small and innocent, but if left to grow, they become Love’s worst enemy.

“Beware of them, Alice Cooper, for they have taken root.”

  
  


-

 

Alice opened her eyes to find herself on her couch, book in her lap. Betty sat patiently next to her, tapping her long red fingernails on the armrest.

She immediately shrieked when she saw her daughter’s attire.

“What on earth are you wearing?” Betty’s signature ponytail was replaced by a black bob. Her fishnet covered legs gracefully crossed to the side, and her lips were stained the colour of blood.

She merely raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, let me guess. You're not Betty. You're the ghost of Valentine's Future,” Alice declared dramatically.

The Betty imposter nodded and stood.

“Are you going to tie this crazy night all together somehow? Teach me to open my heart or some shit?”

Not-Betty merely shrugged before waving a hand to reveal a glowing path. It snaked and coiled, and forked in all directions.

“You want me to follow it?”

The ghost nodded.

“Which way?”

She shrugged.

Alice groaned. Of course this one had to be insufferably cryptic. She rubbed her temples.

“You’re making me choose?” she groaned. “Please don’t spew some bs about how the the future is unwritten and these are the possibilities based.”

The ghost merely smiled before waving a hand again. The highway of possibilities dissipated, leaving only one path intact.

“What are you-”

The ghost placed an index finger to her lips, indicating to Alice to be quiet.

The faint echo of sobs and anger float down the path.

 

_“I can't do this anymore, Alice. I need to put my family first. I can’t drop everything every time you’re feeling lonely. It’s too hard.”_

_“Mom, how could you keep this from us? After everything we’ve been through? I can’t even look at you right now.”_

_“Are you even capable of telling the truth? Or has decades of lying made it impossible for you? You’re impossible.”_

 

Alice knew those voices. She would know them anywhere.

“Please make it stop,” she pleaded.

The strange incarnation of her daughter waved her arm again. The path vanished to be replaced by another. Snippets of dialogue reach her ears.

 

_“Promise me you won’t spoil the twins too much when we’re home for Christmas. They miss you.”_

_“Mom, will you walk me down the aisle?”_

_“I love you, and I trust you with my life.”_

 

Her breath hitched. “Alright I get it. Please stop hitting me over the head with it!” she choked back a sob.

The silent visitor simply smiled, satisfied before -

 

 _Snap_.

 

Alice awoke in her bed to soft snowflakes falling outside her window, a pounding headache and a fuzzy tongue.

What a fucked up dream.

She would definitely have to lay off the wine from now on.

She rolled out of bed and wrapped her housecoat tightly around herself before heading to the kitchen to rehydrate herself. Judging by the high sun, Betty would have left for school ages ago. Alice frowned when she realized she hadn’t heard her come in the night before.

A bright red envelope was waiting for her on the table with Betty’s distinctive cursive handwriting scrawled across the front.

Alice’s heart warmed as she opened it.

 

_Mom,_

_No matter what happens, I’ll always be yours._

_Love,_

_Betty_

  
  


Alice smiled and immediately went hunting for her phone to thank Betty for her thoughtfulness. Eventually she found it buried in the couch cushions. She shot off a quick text, but instead of putting her phone away, she hesitated. There was somebody else she needed to get a hold of.

Maybe it was cruel to do it over text on Valentine’s Day of all days, but as soon as it sent, she felt an enormous weight lifted off her chest.

_Happy Valentine’s Day, Hal. I hope you’re happy with her._

It was sincere and yet vague enough to drive him crazy. It was perfect.

  


-

  
  
  


Alice hadn’t exactly planned on pounding on FP’s door later that day but strange dream haunted her all day instead of fading away like everything else she tried to ignore.

The last time she had found herself at his doorstep, he merely grinned and threw his gum out. This time he squinted he squinted against the light reflecting off the snow. He was dressed in fleece pyjamas, and donned thick wool socks. His hair stuck up in every direction.

“Alice? What the hell?” FP was definitely not pleased to see her. A pang of guilt hit her with the realization that he must have been recuperating from his night shift.

“I’m sorry, FP. I just need to talk to you,” she said quickly.

FP frowned, probably in response to the rare moment of sincerity, but he moved aside and let her in from the cold.

She stood in the entrance way, snow from her boots melting onto the mat at her feet. He merely headed to the coffee machine and waited for her to speak.

  
Alice was sick of tired of Fear and Doubt running her life.

“I want to try. With you. For real this time,” she stammered, internally cringing at her inability to communicate with him. .”It doesn’t have to be now - we both have loose ends to tie up. But maybe, one day...Maybe when we’ve processed...Maybe we can try.”

He took a step toward her and enveloped her in his arms. “I sense a ‘but’ coming.”

“But first, ” Alice smiled sadly into his chest. She was ready to lay it all out. She was tired of holding her cards so close to her broken heart. “I need to tell you where I went during Senior Year.”


End file.
